


Stolen Breath

by Lunarium



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Scars, Seventh Heaven (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: How many more times was Tifa Lockhart going to steal her breath away?
Relationships: Yuffie Kisaragi/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	Stolen Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cricket_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricket_aria/gifts).



“Hey!” Yuffie ran towards the drunkards. If there was one thing one could count on at Seventh Heaven it was the fact that there was bound to be at least one patron who got too drunk and started trouble. “Think you had too much to drink, pal!” 

“Out of mah way, lil punk!” A flask flew, missed her head by inches and smashed against the wall. 

“Why you—I ain’t the punk here!”

“Enough!” 

Yuffie froze as Tifa marched past her, fists clenched. No longer the bubbly bartender from moments before, she made for the rowdy group with eyes that shone red. 

“Get out!” Tifa ordered. 

“Hey, Tifa, sorry, I—”

But Tifa didn’t wait for an apology. Yuffie watched as, one by one, the drunkards were tossed out of Seventh Heaven by Tifa, without needing so much a moment’s aid from Yuffie. 

Yuffie whistled, impressed; she had seen Tifa fight before, but in the heat of battle, of life and death, she had never stopped to truly appreciate her style. She was fierce! The way her biceps bulged, her strong legs moved, her unabashed spirit of just charging right into danger, taking down every opponent single-handedly with skill unmatched by any back at Wutai—was Seventh Heaven getting too warm? 

Standing there, wide-eyed, her breath stolen for a second, Yuffie had to contain her excitement. 

“Ooh, Tifa!” she cackled, but Tifa just sighed as she looked around herself and the broken glass. 

“What a mess…” Tifa said. “Marlene, get me a mop—don’t touch the glass! Yuffie, get back to work and stop gawking!” 

“What happened here?” Cloud asked Tifa some time later. Yuffie glanced up, watching the two intently. Tifa just laughed and brushed the matter aside while Cloud listened. And then she saw him pass something to her, something shiny and round, and her eyes grew wide. 

Cloud’s gaze shot up, but Yuffie quickly glanced down.

* * *

Moving slowly so that the floorboards would not creak, Yuffie made for Tifa’s room. Each breath came slow—inhale, hold, exhale—her heart hammered. She had to get that materia. She had no idea where the team had found Knights of the Round, and why someone like Tifa was now in possession of it, or why Cloud felt the need to pass it over to her before leaving the bar again. All Yuffie knew was that Tifa had disappeared for a moment and returned with no materia in sight, and resumed her cleanup as if nothing had happened. 

Surely, Tifa was not going to hold on to the materia forever? It wasn’t for her kind of fighting. Yuffie could only assume Tifa was guarding it for a brief time before it was handed off to someone else. 

And that someone else was going to be her. 

Reaching the door, Yuffie leaned against it and listened. No sound. Tifa wouldn’t be back, but in case there was someone else inside, either sleeping or meditating. 

Turning the doorknob and cracking the door just a fraction, Yuffie peered in: no one sleeping on the bed. No one meditating. No sign of Tifa anywhere at all. 

And no sign of the materia either for that matter. Slipping in, Yuffie studied the simple room and took in every detail, every nook and cranny, to determine which drawer or floorboard Tifa may have hid the materia. 

She tried under the bed—too obvious—rummaged through her desk, checked for a loose floorboard, checked behind the wardrobe—and that was when she heard the click of the doorknob. 

Panicking, she pounced into the large wardrobe and shut the door. A thin crack was left open, allowing her to see just enough into the room. Tifa had walked in, tossing her gloves on the nightstand. Materia were set in the gloves, and not one were the much-desired Knights of the Round.

“What an evening,” Tifa groaned to herself, her top stained from earlier. 

She stood in front of the mirror and pulled her top over her head—Yuffie should have looked away—she was thief, not a creep!—but that was when something reflected in the mirror caught her eye and made her suck in her breath. 

A scar. Long, thick, ragged, the scar ran across Tifa’s chest, wrapping around one breast. With the way Tifa dressed, Yuffie would have never guessed she had such a scar, but on second thought she realized Tifa had never exposed her chest. 

How had she gotten it? Yuffie recalled a story about Tifa being in Nibelheim when it was attacked. Was that it? Had Tifa survived Sephiroth with that scar to show for it? 

_Damn._

Tifa was…well, that was kinda cool! Badass fighting skills, sporting a massive scar after facing off one of the most wicked SOLDIERS on the Planet…just who the heck was Tifa Lockhart and what was she doing to _Yuffie’s_ heart? 

Yuffie leaned against the wardrobe’s door, grinning from ear to ear, and totally miscalculated her little movement. Her hand slipped, and her forehead knocked against the door. 

She cussed and quickly bit her tongue. Checking the crack, Tifa’s face didn’t indicate she had heard the sound. She moved about the room, still without a top, picking things up and tossing them on her bed in a neat pile. 

And then she made for the wardrobe. Before Yuffie could think of an escape route, the door flung open, and Tifa stared down at her. 

“There you are,” she said in a tone that sounded half-amused. Her hair only partially covered her breasts, but she didn’t make an attempt to cover herself. 

“Hey!” Yuffie greeted. “I didn’t want to startle you. Just stopped by for a moment.” 

“Of course,” Tifa said calmly. “Yuffie, would you look after the bar along with Marlene for me? I’m heading to take a shower.” 

Yuffie glanced at her scar, getting a closer look at it, her breath stolen again at the sight, before tearing her eyes away to meet Tifa’s gaze. “Sure!” 

The materia momentarily forgotten, Yuffie head out to her new task, eager to impress. She rushed about Seventh Heaven like every good bartender, although something distraught Marlene until Tifa finally joined them and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” she said kindly to Marlene. “I got it from here.” 

“So…!” Yuffie began, bursting to ask a million questions. Would Tifa even discuss her scar? Before Yuffie could get another word out, Tifa pulled her aside while giving her a warm and amused look. 

“Yuffie, do you know anything about mixing cocktails? Here...” 

As Tifa taught her, Yuffie watched with her chin perched on her hands, smiling in admiration. A badass fighter. A survivor with a scar. A beautiful and patient teacher. 

How many more times was Tifa Lockhart going to steal her breath away?


End file.
